The Remainder
by zoeymew1098
Summary: AU. What if there were no experiments, just survivors? The Gladers believe that they are the only surviving human colony left in the United States and have no way of contacting life outside of their community to prove otherwise. Cranks roam the streets and no one is safe outside of the Glade's walls, however time is running out and even that may no longer be true.
1. Chapter 1

Keep running.

Don't stop.

Don't look back.

My eyes burned from unshed tears as I pushed my body forward despite the way it ached, begging me to rest. If you'd told me a few months ago that I would be running hundreds of miles for my life, I would have asked what magical brew you were on. I wasn't athletic. Running for a few minutes at a time would once leave me out of breath and out of commission for an embarrassing period afterward.

Left, right, left, right. I focused on the steady rhythm of my feet slapping against the jagged pavement to keep the rest of my mind quiet. Alone, I had all the time in the world to think - too much time think. Sometimes I needed quiet to keep myself sane. If I'd learnt anything from the Bad Times, it was that being alone with one's own mind could be disastrous.

This town hadn't been used in years. Ivy sprawled across cracked cement and nearly every window had been broken loose from its frame, some boarded by decaying pieces of wood. It was hard to believe that only five years had passed since The Flare, that this place had once been a bustling metropolis full of people and cars and noise. It was a ghost town now.

It had taken me weeks to get here. I had spent most of them unsure that I was even going in the right direction. We had always hoped that there were other colonies, places where survivors like us had gathered and prospered as much as they could in a world that was no longer their own. There had been rumours of a colony in a park outside of what was once the city of Pittsburgh and so when the Bad Times happened, it was the direction I headed in.

I passed the decrepit sign marked 'Welcome to Pittsburgh' in the early afternoon yesterday. Faded and rusted green, I'd almost missed where it lay in a bed of wild grass. That sign had given me the hope I needed to push myself through the city and toward where I believed the colony lay. I hadn't given much thought as to what would happen if I turned up to the park and there was no one there. I would find a way to deal with that situation if it happened, but I had to believe that there were people there, others like me. It was that hope that kept me going now.

I'd just began making my way through one of the many small towns that littered the outskirts of the city when I had heard noise on a street to my right. Normally I would have put as much distance I could between myself and that noise, but with the possibility of it being someone from the elusive colony out on a scavenge, I went off course to explore. Now I was running from the Cranks who had been the source of the noise, positive that this was the end for me.

My breath fell from my chapped lips, ragged and uneven. My legs and lungs burned and I would have been crying if I had any water in my body to spare. I hadn't eaten in days now, and the last of my water rations in the bag on my back were pitifully low. If I got away from these Cranks somehow and there was no colony in the park, I'd probably die of dehydration.

My pace slowed for a fraction of a second. A large part of me thought - why not? Why not just give myself up to these Cranks and end everything now before I was dealt with a disappointment that I wouldn't be able to survive? I was betting my life on a rumour, some tale we shared between our community as a way to spread hope that this wasn't the end for our kind. For what was not the first time since I'd begun my journey, I wished I'd died with the others. Maybe I would have been better off.

I almost slid to the ground as I turned a corner abruptly. I was met with a large, open road and trees. That was it - the park! I threw myself into the trees and almost fell over an exposed root. I turned my head, ignoring the most important rule when dealing with Cranks: never look back, only to see that they now stood by the tree line, hesitant. My eyebrows furrowed. Cranks never stopped when it came to a potential meal, and so I was confused as to why they no longer pursued me. It was almost as if they were scared of the forest.

Thankful nonetheless for their disinterest, I eased into a light jog. It was green for as far as I could see, trees in every direction. Whatever paths once existed were now covered by shrubbery and mulch. The warmer spring weather had melted the last of the snow and revealed what had been left behind when winter first came. There had to be some kind of clearing, I decided. When we had first begun building I remembered the men working away at removing trees day in and out for weeks to clear space and provide materials to build with.

I stopped at a tree with branches near enough to grab onto and began to climb. It came easy and brought back memories of my mother scolding me as a child for tearing my dress because I wanted to play with the squirrels. My heart hurt a little as it always did when I remembered my mother, but I focused on the pain from the bark scratching against my palms as I pulled my body up higher instead. It took a few minutes to reach high enough to poke my head into the sky. I wrapped my arms around the body of the tree as I scanned the forest for any dips or wide holes which could indicate a clearing.

I closed my eyes and released a breath of relief. There was a large one only a few minutes' run to the northeast of where I stood now. I knew better than to get my hopes up - the chances of there being someone other than myself in this park were slim, but I could not stop the giddiness that vibrated through my body as I clambered down the tree and took off in the direction of the potential clearing.

I felt light on my feet as I flew through the trees, heart hammering more from excitement and trepidation than exertion. After almost three weeks of trekking across barren states, it was almost over. I could be safe again! Because I was so wrapped up in the potentiality of people waiting just beyond the thinning tree line, it made it more than easy for me to miss the two men sitting in one of the trees ahead of me, and so when one dropped to his feet in the path directly in front of me I barrelled right into his chest and would have made us both fall to the ground had he not placed his hands on my shoulders and steadied me.

I tried to step away from him, buzzing from contact with another human being after going so long without it, but he didn't let me budge. The other man jumped from the tree branch as well and the look of wary distrust on his face made me panic. I hadn't thought about how it would look when a strange girl came barrelling through the forest as if there were a legion of Cranks at her heels.

"Who are you?" the man holding me in place asked. His grip tightened on my shoulders and I hissed at the pressure.

"My name is Tanya," I said as I glanced between my captor and his companion. What if they weren't even from a colony? What if they were two rogue men? What would they do to me? I blindly went into this thinking that all people who weren't Cranks were inherently good, but I realised now as I was being held by two men who were obviously stronger than me that my faith in the human race may have been naively placed. Still, I asked, "Are you part of the colony?"

They shared a look, communicating without words. The man who stood by the tree pushed his dark, unkempt hair from his eyes and waltzed up to us.

"We're the ones asking the questions, sweetheart," he said. "Now where are you coming from?"

He glanced behind me.

"And are there others with you?"

My throat tightened as I said, "No. I'm alone. I came from a colony to the southwest of here. Near what was Charlotte."

His eyebrows rose and fell quickly at this information. "Quite a ways away. What brings you to these parts?"

I winced again as the grip on my my shoulders and the man holding me noticed.

"If I let you go, do you promise not to run away?"

I nodded without second thought. The last thing I wanted to do was run when they possibly held the answers I sought. If they turned out to be bad guys I'd just make a break for it, honour be damned. He let me go and I stumbled back slightly, rubbing the skin he'd grabbed.

"We were attacked a few weeks ago," I said, answering the other man's question. "Cranks. Hundreds of them. We didn't have the kind of security we would need in place to hold them off. They took over within hours. I made it out. Barely."

They glanced at one another again and I could tell they didn't believe me.

"It's true," I said, stepping forward. "What would I gain by lying to you?"

"We've never heard of organised Cranks," the dark haired man said slowly. "Is that even possible?"

"They don't start off as the crazed lunatics the worst of them turn out to be," I pointed out. I wrapped my arms around my chest. "Please, could you just tell me if you're part of some group like the one I've come from? We were always under the impression that there were others out there."

"We should take her to see Jerry," one man said to the other. "Let him decide what to do with her."

"We need to make sure she's not infected," the other replied. "Wouldn't be the first time a Crank tried to weasel their way into the walls."

Without even having to be asked to, I stripped off my cardigan to show them my tanned, bare arms. I lifted my shirt to show my stomach and back as my legs were already bared by my shorts. I had no shame, I knew this procedure well as it was one often followed by scavengers to ensure that no one had been harmed by the Cranks.

The tall man who had held me nodded in approval and pointed toward my bag.

"Empty that out," he said. "Got to make sure you're not armed."

I tore the bag from my shoulders and unzipped it before thrusting it in their direction. The dark haired man took it from me and rummaged through it only to find my empty water bottles and packages of what once held food.

"Nothing," he told his companion before giving my bag back to me. "Guess we'll leave it up to Jerry, now."

They each grabbed an arm and began to lead me in the direction I had been heading in before I'd run into them. I wanted to tell them that they could let me go because I had no intention of going anywhere but my words died the moment I saw the wall. It was as tall as the oldest trees in this park and I wondered how I'd managed to miss something so monstrous from the treetops.

The man on my left chuckled when he saw my dumbfounded expression.

"Welcome to the Glade," he said before nodding in the direction of the wall. "Not exactly what you were expecting, was it?"

 **Okay so this obviously isn't set in the original world that Dashner created. There are enough fics out there with a new character inserted into the original story, and some do it quite well, but I wanted to do something different. I love the characters so I wanted to keep their essence and place them in a newer, slightly different world to see how they would progress in it. I have taken many liberties with this in an effort to make my own world within the world I admire Dashner for creating. This gave me the opportunity to add multiple original characters and really press the canon characters to their limits (at least I'd like to think so…).**

 **Comments are always welcome as I am writing this on a chapter-to-chapter basis and therefore would love feedback to shape how this will turn out! I want to say I'll get up at least four chapters a week, but no promises are made because I don't quite know how my summer is going to turn out!**


	2. Chapter 2

The enormity of the walls only became more apparent the closer we grew to them. Even when I fully craned my neck backward, I could not see where the wall ended. Our crudely built fences made of whatever wood and metal we had been able to salvage from the abandoned towns didn't compare to the craftsmanship of the smooth stone that stretched upward for what looked like miles.

"How is this even possible?" I asked, my dubious stare turning to the two men on either side of me. "It must have taken years to build this."

Neither replied but I took no offence to it, perfectly content to study the wall some more and try to come up with answers of my own. A couple stood close to the entrance of the Glade - a gaping hole in the wall which dwarfed them by hundreds of feet.

"Ted!" the woman called as she waved toward the dark haired man on my right. Her expression dimmed and hand lowered when she realised that her friends were not alone. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out something which glinted in the light that managed to filter through the branches of the trees - a knife. I stiffened and almost tripped over my feet. They wouldn't hurt me - right?

"Crank?" Her dark eyes never left me as she spat the word. Her knuckles had turned white from how tightly she gripped the blade. It took everything in me not to struggle against the two men holding me. She would see that as an attempt to escape, no doubt, and my guts would be on the forest floor before I'd even had the chance to escape.

"It's okay, Sunny," Ted said, raising his free hand out to her. "She's not infected."

Her long, dark braid slid over her shoulder and onto her back as she turned her head to study Ted's face. Her body remained tightly coiled in apprehension, ready to spring at me and destroy me if given the signal.

"You sure?" the man by the entrance, who I noticed now was also armed, asked. Ted's companion scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"What do you take us for, you shank?" he replied. "We checked her out, Roman. Wouldn't bring her this far if we hadn't."

"What are you going to do with her?" Sunny asked, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"Take her to see Jerry," the man on my left said as he glanced my way. "Never really had this happen before, have we?"

"No one's ever found you besides me?" The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. I shuffled around in discomfort as they all turned their attention to me, surprised that I had spoken.

"I suppose we never thought anyone was looking," Roman said with a wry grin. Ted snorted and nudged me forward.

"Alright," he said. "Enough chit chat, we've got to drop this one off to Jerry and then get back to the patrol. You shanks would have the Glade swarming in cranks by day's end if we weren't out there doing our job."

"Oh please, I could finish off more cranks than you even if my arms were tied behind my back and I was blindfolded," Roman teased. Sunny, however, was not so easily appeased and stepped in front of us, blocking our path into the Glade.

"Sunny, what are you doing?"

"We can't just let her into the Glade, Peter," she said, gesturing toward me with the knife. "She's an outsider. How do we know we can trust her?"

"She's a kid," Peter said, his voice low as he tried to reason with her. "Didn't even put up a fight on the way here."

Sunny ignored his words and came even closer until we were toe to toe.

"What do you want with us?" I stared at the woman who was no taller than I was, yet was more intimidating than any of the men around us. If she wasn't currently scaring the shit out of me, I would have gone so far as to call her pretty with her smooth, pale skin and dark, slanted eyes.

"Shelter," I answered honestly. "Food. Safety. A functioning bathroom wouldn't be so bad either."

Roman tried but failed to stifle his laughter. Sunny glared at him but stepped aside reluctantly. Ted nodded at her as he led us past the two guards and through the entrance into the Glade. Inside the walls, shadows were already cast across the open plain as the sun fell out of reach. People milled about, stopping to chat with one another as they held baskets of produce on their hips or planks of wood across their shoulders.

It was both everything and nothing like my home. We had been cramped for space and there was a constant hum of energy. We never lacked company and we always lacked privacy but we were happy. The wide, empty space of the Glade was foreign and intimidating, but the smiles and easy conversation shared between those who lived there were familiar and it made my heart ache in my chest to be reminded of everything I had lost not too long ago.

"Jerry'll get someone to give you a tour," Peter assured me with a chuckle as he watched my head whip in every direction it could to take it all in. "If he lets you stay, that is."

"Do you think he won't let me stay?" My stomach lurched into my throat at the thought of being exiled so soon after finding them. I wouldn't survive another week out there alone. Would they honestly send me away? How could I have been so naive as to have not even considered that possibility? What if this had all been in vain?

"You've gone and upset her." Ted sighed. He turned his face toward me and said, "Jerry's a reasonable guy. He's fair and he'll be sure to do what's best for the Glade."

I knew that he meant for those words to be comforting but they made me even more uncertain of my fate. Would I be what's best for the Glade? I would have to convince this Jerry they spoke of that I was, somehow. I would work as hard as I could to earn my keep, I'd stay out of their way and do whatever they asked of me as long as they let me stay. If I told him that, he'd have to let me, right?

The buildings in the Glade were all made of wood but there was a clear distinction between the crudely built houses that were the first to be constructed and the larger, more stable-looking buildings we passed on our way to wherever they were taking me. They had progressed so much farther than we had been able to, although I had yet to see a radio tower or electricity cables which had littered the sky of the colony I came from.

Not many people seemed to notice us as we passed them, although a few did give us a second glance when they realised my face was not a familiar one. No one met us with the same hostility that Sunny had, though, and I wondered if it was because of her job that she was so against my coming into the Glade or if there was something that made her genuinely dislike me.

They led me to the corner of the Glade furthest from the entrance we had come through where a shack-like building stood aligned with the walls. The roof was made of thatch and resembled a fan, the entrance nothing more than a tunnel-like cubbyhole. Teddy pulled us to a halt and nodded toward the entrance closest to where we stood.

"I've got it handled from here, Pete," Ted said. "Why don't you see if Ben or someone can cover for me until I get back."

Peter let go of my arm and nodded once, flashing me a quick smile before taking off in a quick jaunt toward the walls. Ted pressed against my shoulder, encouraging me forward into the tunnel. There was the sound of a ruckus and laughter as we walked into what looked like a meeting hall. Two boys were playfully wrestling one another in the centre of the room whilst a man sat in one of the seats which circled the empty floor.

"You're weaker than I remember you being," the dark skinned boy said as he wrapped his arm around the blond's neck and began to run his knuckles over the boy's skull.

"Slinthead," the blond replied with some difficulty. Ted cleared his throat to announce our entrance, but the seated man, who I supposed was Jerry, had already noticed us and come to his feet. The boys stopped their scuffle and when the dark skinned boy's grip loosened on his friend at the slight of me, the blond was quick to slip away. His grin fell as he saw me too. They looked toward one another with raised brows.

"Alright boys, off with you," the man said as he stepped off the ledge the chairs stood on. "Go make yourselves useful for once."

"Dad-" the dark skinned boy started but the man shook his head once briefly and his son fell silent.

"Go, Alby."

As the two boys passed Ted and I, their gaze lingered. When they were out of sight, Jerry nodded toward the door.

"Check to make sure they haven't stuck around, would you, Ted?" Jerry said. "I wouldn't put it past those two to try to eavesdrop."

Ted let go of my arm but still stood rooted in the spot, eyes darting between the door and me. He didn't want to leave me alone with Jerry, although I had no idea what he thought I'd be able to do to the burly man to put him in any harm when he already knew I wasn't armed.

"I think we'll be fine," Jerry said and that was all the assurance Ted needed to go after the two boys. Jerry studied me quickly from head to toe, gaze resting longer on the backpack I carried than anything else. "Now you look like you have a story to tell me."

I wrapped one arm around myself and nodded.

"My name is-" I began, only to have my voice crack embarrassingly. Jerry turned toward the chair he had just come from and picked something up. He walked toward me and proffered a glass.

"Drink this first," he said. "Wouldn't do any good to have you pass out before I find out what all this is about."

I peered into the glass to find clear liquid - water - and I took a sip hesitantly. He couldn't have known that I was coming so there would be no reason for this to be tampered with. My eyes fell shut in relief. The ache in my throat, which had felt as dry as the Sahara desert a few moments ago, eased. Jerry watched carefully as I finished the contents of the cup and then nodded indicating that I should speak. I relayed the same information that I had told Ted and Peter when they found me and was not surprised when I was met with the same disbelief.

"So you're telling me that Cranks - a whole horde of them - took over a human, what was it that you called it? Colony? And you were the onlyone to survive?" Jerry shook his head. "Forgive me if I find it a bit hard to believe that a child could make their way across the country and happen to stumble upon us."

"It wasn't an accident," I said. "There were rumour that you guys were here and they turned out to be true."

"Then how come we've never heard of you?" Jerry asked. "If you've heard of us, surely we would have known about you too."

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "We tried contacting you using the radio, but you never responded."

Jerry frowned. "Radio?"

"That was the first thing we did," I said. "Got a bunch of people together to build a radio out of scraps in case there were any government messages on the airwaves, or people out there trying to contact someone else, too."

Jerry ran a hand over his closely cropped greying hair.

"We always thought it was just us," he said. "Never thought there'd be others out there. How many were you, before the attack?"

"Maybe eighty." I cast my gaze to the ground as I blinked rapidly to force back the tears.

"And no one else made it out?"

"I don't know," I said again. "I stuck around for a little while to see if I could find anyone else who'd gotten away, but then a few cranks almost found me and I left. Started running here."

"This is..." Jerry shook his head when he couldn't find the words. He pursed his lips and placed clasped hands in front of them. He closed his eyes and I remained silent, watching him think. A few minutes later he dropped his hands as he came to a decision. "Alright. You can stay, for now. I'll have to find some way to see if anything you're saying is true."

I wanted to scream at him that I wouldn't be here if it wasn't, that I had a family and a life before this, that I didn't want to be in their stupid Glade but it was the only choice I had if I wanted to survive. Instead, I nodded in acceptance.

"Tonight we'll keep you in the slammer, just in case," he continued. "We'll find somewhere for you to sleep tomorrow and see if anyone's looking for any help so you can get to work."

He fixed me with a stern look.

"There's three rules you're going to have to live by if you're going to stay with us. No ifs, ands or buts," he said. "You don't harm anyone else. You pull your own weight and do your work - we don't support freeloading here - and you do not under any circumstance leave this Glade."

"Excuse me?" I exclaimed. "Am I now a prisoner or something?"

"It's our rules, kid." There was no hint of apology in his tone. "Take it or leave it."

He examined my dubious expression and his stance became less defensive.

"If you want to leave, we won't stop you. We'll spare as much food and water as we can, but it wouldn't be much." Jerry shrugged. "It's all on you. What do you want to do?"

If I stayed, this was it. I wouldn't be allowed to leave. Was I walking into something I would regret? Everyone I'd seen seemed to be here of their own volition, they seemed happy. These people obviously took care of their own and I couldn't lie and say that I was willing to turn down the prospect of being safe, being around people again.

I squared my shoulders and looked him in the eye, uncertainty be damned.

"I guess I can stick around." I cocked my head to one side. "But what exactly is the 'slammer'?"

Jerry cracked a grin, the years on his face created by stress lines and wrinkles melting away as he clapped me on the shoulder with one of his large hands.

"You've got a lot to learn."

 **Okay so here's chapter two, friends! I'm powering through these whilst I still have time on my shifts at work so that when summer gets hectic there'll be a stable foundation to fall back on.**

 **I'm really using these chapters to set the tone for the rest of the story as well as establish a base of this world I'm still figuring out in my head. A lot of the way the Glade works is going to remain the same but there will be some very obvious changes such as the role of the "runners" as there is no maze.**

 **As always, feel free to leave comments and share what you thought about this chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

The slammer wasn't much, I realised, as Ted and I came to a stop outside of a crudely constructed square slightly risen from the ground. The wooden poles were tied together by rope, haphazardly forming a grid. Given the right motivation I could have easily found a way to weasel out of it, but I supposed that its use was more symbolic than that of an actual prison. There was no furniture in the room, but after weeks of sleeping on the ground I was sure I'd be able to survive one more night of it once it didn't rain. I'd be soaked before the night was out if it did.

"It's not the most comfortable," Ted said as he shifted one of the wooden gates and stepped aside.

"Oh." I raised a brown in his direction. "Are you telling me this from experience?"

Ted pressed his lips together but the upward tilt at the corners of his mouth gave his amusement away.

"I've had worse," I said as I climbed into the slammer, vaguely recalling one of the colder nights I'd suffered on the road when I swore my toes would fall off after they'd gone numb. The floor of the slammer was nothing more than dark, packed dirt. I smiled wryly when I spotted a small, red ball in the corner. I picked it up and asked, "Is this so people don't go crazy from boredom in here?"

When I turned to face Ted again his somber expression startled me.

"What?" I asked. He shook his head and shut the door. His face appeared between the squares a few seconds later, although he wasn't looking me in the eye anymore. I frowned. Had I said something wrong?

"Someone will be by with some food," he said. He cleared his throat. "See you around, then."

I followed the man with my eyes for as far as I could before he disappeared from my view. After a few moments of trying to figure out what had just happened, I dismissed his behaviour as something beyond my control. No one else appeared to be within the vicinity of the slammer, so I crawled onto the floor and rested my back against one of the walls.

I rolled the ball back and forth in front of my crossed legs a few times before it became impossible to ignore the pounding headache that had begun to form on the walk to the slammer. I slid onto my side and decided that sleep was probably the best idea. Time here would feel as if it went faster if I passed out for a few hours, anyway. For the first time since I'd left home, I closed my eyes with little worry about what would happen if I did.

By the time I woke again it was dark. I could barely see my own hands as no light came into the room from the gates above me. I felt my stomach pang from its lack of food. I remembered Ted's promise and wondered miserably if, because had been asleep, I had missed the person who had come. Maybe they had taken my silence for refusal of anything to eat.

My stomach growled loudly and I rested a hand on it as if to ease its misery. I would have gone, or at least tried to go, back to sleep had I not heard a soft snicker followed by the 'thwack' of someone being hit.

"What was that for?" one voice asked accusingly. There was no response but a few seconds later two faces appeared between the wooden squares. It was the boys from before. The one called Alby held a torch in one hand, while the blonde held two apples. He must have seen my gaze dawdle on them because he smirked and reached through the grid to give them to me. I couldn't help but notice how warm his skin was our fingers brushed.

"We thought you might be hungry," he said. I nodded in thanks, suddenly self-conscious. It had been a while since I'd been around people my own age and I wasn't quite sure how I was supposed to act around them anymore. Adults were easy because they saw me as a child and therefore expected less of me. I couldn't begin to fathom what these boys saw when they looked at me. No doubt a hungry, scruffy-looking wildling.

The two exchanged a look before Alby spoke up. "What's your name?"

"Tanya," I said after taking a bite of the apple. The sweetness of the juice exploded on my tongue and I held back a groan. I used to hate apples, I think, before the Flare. I definitely didn't hate them now. I watched the two boys as I took another bite. Turning to the blond I asked, "You?"

Alby snorted and muttered something which, from his tone, did not sound complimentary. The blond hesitated before responding, "Newt."

"Thank you for the apples, Newt." I glanced toward the other boy. "Although I suppose Alby helped you get them."

"How do you know my name?" Alby backed away from the gates, slightly apprehensive.

"Jerry said it earlier." I tossed the core of the first finished apple into one corner. Alby studied me for a moment, trying to gage how truthful I was being. Whatever he found put him at ease because he joined Newt and leaned over the slammer once more.

"Where'd you come from?" Newt asked. This time I noticed the slightly different lilt to his words. He had an accent of some sort but I couldn't place what kind it was.

"A few hundred miles southwest of here. We didn't have a name for it," I said before grinning. "Although 'the Glade' is a pretty clever one."

"My dad came up with it," Alby said. "You came all that way by yourself?"

"Didn't have much of a choice." I shrugged. Alby's eyebrows threaded together as he mused over my words.

"Why not?" Alby asked. "I can't believe your parents let you come all this way alone."

I paused mid-bite and frowned. Although the apple wasn't finished I chucked it with the other one. They definitely wouldn't have let me come this far alone if they'd had any say in the matter. I would never have had to.

"They didn't," I said, keeping my eyes trained on the slowly browning remainders of the apples in the corner. "It was kind of an extenuating circumstance."

I could tell that Alby wanted to press further into the issue, but Newt must have sensed the way I was withdrawing into myself because he shook his head at Alby and changed the topic.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen." Newt grinned again. I gave him a questioning look.

"There aren't many girls our age here," he explained.

"How many Gladers are there?"

"Coming close to two hundred now, I think." Alby glanced toward Newt who nodded. "It's almost summer, though, so that number will probably change soon enough."

Both boys chuckled and I frowned again, feeling as if I was being left out of the joke. Neither attempted to explain it to me but I suspected that they didn't even realise that I didn't understand.

"What job do you think you'll get? They'll probably start rotating you through them tomorrow." Newt leaned a bit closer like he was trying to get a proper glimpse of me. I couldn't see him well either as the light they had cast an orange halo around their bodies, leaving most of their faces cast in shadows. I could tell that Newt had a thin face and slim body and Alby exuded the same strength as his father, but I couldn't see much else about them.

I became extremely aware of my dirty clothes and unruly hair and wondered how soon I'd be able to find a shower and a fresh change of clothing. My stomach gurgled again, causing the boys to laugh and I felt my cheeks grew hot. The shower would have to wait until I'd had more food.

"I don't even know what jobs there are," I said to take the attention off of my very vocal belly. I tried to think of something that I was good at that would give some indication as to what I'd be able to do but drew up blank. "What do you two do?"

"This shank does nothing," Newt said as he pointed a thumb in Alby's direction.

"Slim it," Alby retorted. "I work with my dad - Jerry - he's teaching me how to run the Glade."

"I work in the fields with the track-hoes most times." Newt grinned. "But I help the builders if they need an extra hand."

Alby noticed my confused expression. "What's with the look?"

"I just don't understand some of the words you use," I said. "It's like you're speaking a whole new language half of the time."

"It's just Glader speak," Alby said. "You'll catch on real quick."

"If you say so." I wrapped my hands around my upper arms. "What else do people do?"

"Well, Medjacks take care of everyone and baggers work in the graveyard."

I wondered if they had much need for these baggers, but I kept myself from asking. I perked up when Alby mentioned the kitchens, led by someone named Frypan of all things, because I had sometimes helped the kitchens back home.

"You'll probably be a slopper, though," Newt said in a teasing tone.

It didn't sound like a fun job and I wrinkled my nose. "What do they do?"

"Clean up the messes," Alby explained. I quirked a brow and crossed my arms huffily.

"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm meant to be a slopper."

Newt's cheeks reddened and he began to stutter which caused Alby to cackle.

"You've gone and done it now, slinthead," Alby said. "Upset the only girl who was willing to even look your way."

"Sorry," Newt finally said, albeit a bit begrudgingly. "Didn't mean any harm by it."

I pursed my lips, contemplating making him squirm in my silence for a while longer, but I caved under his worried stare and smiled. No use scaring away what could be the only possible friends I'd make in this place.

Alby glanced over the slammer and hit Newt on his shoulder to catch his attention.

"We'd better go," Newt said. He smiled apologetically through the gates as he stood fully. "See you around, Greenie."

I rolled my eyes as he used yet another unfamiliar word but called goodbye to them as they disappeared, leaving me alone in the darkness once more. I slipped back onto the floor and curled up on my side. After a few minutes of tossing and turning I gave up on the pretence of sleep and rolled onto my back, staring up at the dark blue sky.

Mom would have been - what did Newt call it? - a track-hoe, I thought. In the warmer seasons she tended to a small garden in the corner of our living quarters. She wouldn't ever let me touch her plants for fear of me destroying them, but despite my lack of a green thumb I hoped I ended up in the fields with Newt because it would be nice to have a familiar face around and he seemed friendly enough.

I closed my eyes and in the silence of the night I couldn't help but pretend for a moment that I was home in my bed and not hundreds of miles away. If I focused hard enough I could even hear my parents breathing nearby like I used to. I always complained about not having my own, separate space, but I'd give anything to have them here now.

I opened my eyes and was transported from my warm, familiar home back to the empty night before me. I blinked rapidly to ease the way my eyes began to sting. Surrounded by hundreds of other people, finally safe and in the place I'd been in search of for weeks, but I'd never felt more alone and afraid.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time I was able to fall asleep again, the night had already begun to lighten. A sharp knock against the wooden bars jarred me from my sleep after what felt like only a few seconds and through squinted eyes I found two kind faces peering down at me. Jerry rested against one of the gates with an elbow while Alby stood behind him. I yawned and pushed myself into a sitting position.

"Long night?" Jerry asked. I shrugged, my eyes darting toward Alby before quickly returning to his father. I didn't know if he'd been allowed to visit me last night and I didn't want to get him in trouble in case he wasn't have supposed to.

"Am I finally being sprung free?"

"Am I going to regret letting you out of here?" Jerry leant back and crossed his arms. When I shook my head immediately in response he smiled and pulled the gate to one side with a little help from Alby. Jerry offered a hand and with his help I climbed out of the slammer. He passed me the bag I had been carrying since I left home and I placed one of the straps on my shoulders. The sky was a milky shade of light blue but the brightness of the early morning still hurt my eyes and I had to clench them shut a few times to adjust to it.

Alby stared at me unabashedly and I quirked a brow. "Got something you want to say?"

He shook his head, but I could tell that his lack of words wasn't because he was shy or flustered. He was simply curious and not afraid to show it. Still, it left me feeling uneasy and I took to studying my surroundings instead of looking at him any longer.

"Alright, you've seen her off," Jerry said to Alby. "Go get something to eat and meet me back at the homestead in an hour."

Alby hesitated for a few seconds before following his father's wishes. He nodded in my direction before making his way toward the collection of tables I could spot easily across the Glade where many people already seemed to be seated having breakfast. Jerry waited until he was out of hearing range before he spoke to me again.

"Couldn't keep him away if I tried. He's like a puppy that's found a new chew toy." Jerry laughed. "So I'm going to give a quick tour of the Glade before we get you started on finding a job."

I bit my lip and Jerry sighed.

"What is it?"

Bashfully I said, "I haven't had a proper meal in weeks."

Jerry knelt down to retrieve a bag that I hadn't noticed upon exiting the slammer. I accepted the bag and peered inside to find a few apples and a piece of bread.

"If you're still hungry we can pick something up when we stop by the kitchens," Jerry said. "Should we get started, then?"

He gestured over his shoulder with a thumb toward the large building that stood a few feet away from the slammer. A few smaller huts built in a similar manner stood opposite the building and people disappeared through the doors frequently.

"That's the homestead. It's where we all sleep, the smaller houses are divided between families and kids old enough to be living on their own. We got you a room with the other women, it's not big but it'll do." Jerry pointed to the fan shaped building that stood left of the slammer in one corner of the Glade. "You probably remember that from yesterday. If there's anything important going on we hold a meeting in there."

He began to walk across the Glade toward the opposite end of the plain. I grabbed the bread from my back and threw the strap over my free shoulder. I followed a few steps behind Jerry and shoved the soft dough into my mouth piece by piece. Once we reached the opposite wall we stopped in front of a tall structure that resembled a watchtower. It appeared to be a tree trunk void of any branches or leaves that was surrounded by platforms. The voices of the men currently stood at the top of the tower drifted down toward us. I eyed the ladder and wondered if I was allowed up there too. The view was probably amazing.

"This here's the Tree," Jerry said and I snorted. "Not the most creative name, I admit. Runners rotate shifts here to keep an eye on the Glade, make sure everything's running smoothly."

"Are only runners allowed up there?" I asked before adding as an afterthought, "What are runners?"

Jerry scrutinised me for a moment before answering. "For now if you want to go up there, have another Glader with you."

His eyes were guarded and I knew there was more to that request than he was letting on but I just nodded and asked again, "Runners?"

"They take care of the Glade," Jerry said. "They go outside of the walls to look for any Cranks getting too close and sometimes go into the towns to grab things we can't produce ourselves here, galvanise and the like.

"Oh," I said in realisation. "We called them scavengers."

Jerry nodded and backed away from the tree. We walked along the edge of the cluster of trees to the left of the tower which Jerry called the deadheads. I recalled the boys mentioning it the night before but I couldn't spot any gravestones through the trees. The dead were probably buried further in. After the deadheads we stopped by the medjack hut. It was smaller than I thought it would be and only two men currently ran the place.

Their names were Clint and Jeff and they were both very chipper despite the early hour. They were getting the room in order for the day but stopped to chat with Jerry for a few moments about a few herbs they were short on. Jerry promised to deliver the message and led me across the Glade once more toward the cluster of tables Alby had disappeared to earlier.

Not many remained finishing their breakfasts. The day had begun for the Gladers and they had all wandered off to start their assigned duties. The few that did still sit at tables appeared to be around my age or younger. I wondered if there was some kind of schooling here, as I had often had to learn basic botany and similar survival skills with the other children back home. I had been particularly good at weaving nets we used to trap game in.

A couple called out in greeting to Jerry but we did not stop. Instead we visited the cooks in the kitchen briefly and although I'd finished the contents of the bag that had been brought to me, the tantalising scents coming from the pots on the stoves were enough to set my stomach grumbling again. Frypan, the leader of the kitchen workers, was a good sport about it and snuck me a few rolls to take with me.

Jerry and I finished our tour back at the homestead. He led me to one of the smaller buildings. The hallways were narrow and lined with numerous doors. We climbed the rickety stairs to the second floor and came to a halt in front of a door which had once been red but now only retain spots of the paint, the rest of the wood bare to the eye. He fished around in his pocket for a set of keys and unlocked the door. Jerry paused in the doorway and removed one of the keys from the ring that held them together and gave it to me.

"Don't lose that," he warned. "I may have a master key but I won't be in a good mood if you wake me up in the middle of the night because you've somehow locked yourself out."

I nodded and slipped the key into one of the pockets of my pants, making a mental note to find some kind of string so that I could tie the key around my neck instead. As Jerry had said, the room was small. The tiny bed made of foam laying on the floor took up most of the space, although there would be enough room to fit in a desk if I found one. There was one window set into the wall furthest from the door and it let in so much light that the wooden walls seemed to glisten. I would need curtains too, then, or else I would be woken by the bright sun every morning.

"I'll leave you to get settled. Come find me after lunch and we'll find somewhere for you to get your hands dirty."

He didn't wait for a response before backing out of the room and returning down the hallway. I dropped my bags on the floor beside the door and glanced around the room again. It was bare, the only furniture besides the bed being a small chair which looked like it would collapse if I dared to sit on it. It wasn't much but it was my own space and I was more than thankful for it.

The breeze wafted in through the window and I approached it, peering down onto the pathway between the houses. The area around the homestead was empty now, and I suspected that I was the only one who still remained. I wondered if people ever got days off here, or if they were constantly put to work, although I supposed that wouldn't be a bad thing. Busy hands were better than idle minds. It would give me less time to think about where I'd come from, or where I'd go if things didn't work out here.

A lanky blond came up the path, gaze shifting often as if he were looking for someone. As he grew closer he stopped to speak with an older woman who had just exited the building I was in and I recognized the strange accent. When the woman left, headed in the direction of the crops, I whistled to catch the boy's attention. He raised a hand over his eyes to block out the sun and smiled when he spotted me leaning through the window.

"They've let you out, then."

"Had to eventually," I replied. "Aren't you supposed to be working right now?"

"Forgot my knife," Newt said, gesturing toward the building behind him. It must have been where the men slept, or perhaps he still stayed with his family. I brushed my hair from my face and grinned.

"How do I know you're not lying to me?" I asked. "You could just be skiving off and not want me to tell Jerry."

Newt paused, his lips pulling into a large grin as he cocked his head and narrowed his eyes to see me better.

"Guess you'll have to trust me, Greenie."

He winked before playfully saluting in goodbye and heading up the stairs into the other dormitory. I pushed myself off of the window once he was out of sight, dubious that I'd be able to trust someone any time soon, even if that someone happened to be as nice as Newt. I didn't doubt that I would be safe here, but the fact was that I didn't know these people yet, just like they didn't know me. I'd seen firsthand what the consequences were when people were stupid enough to let their guard down.

I made quick work of unpacking the light knapsack that I'd carried with me from my colony. I'd only been left with a few soiled shirts and ripped pants and empty water bottles. I'd have to talk to Jerry about where I'd be able to wash my things, or even get new ones if I was lucky. I contemplated taking a short nap since my eyes still burned from lack of sleep and my head felt foggy and throbbed, but I settled against the window once more and watched the Gladers work from a distance until the sun had risen high enough that I assumed it would soon be lunch.

Maybe I'd fit in here eventually. Maybe I could even be happy here, if enough time passed. But something in my gut told me that I shouldn't get too comfortable yet, and I couldn't bring myself to ignore it.


	5. Chapter 5

I folded the sleeves of my shirt upward until they rested around my shoulders. The hairs that had escaped my braid were stuck to my neck and the sides of my face which were slick with sweat. Although working in the kitchens had been less strenuous than many of the other tasks they'd set for me as builder or slicer, the warmth that came from the constantly-in-use ovens and stoves made the room an almost deadly pit of trapped heat. Coupled with the increasingly warming weather, it was a miracle that no one who worked in the kitchens suffered from heat stroke. I couldn't bring myself to imagine what it would be like in the dead of summer with the sun so unforgiving on the shadeless glade.

Frypan had been nice enough and I didn't find the work nearly as tedious as I thought it would be, but I was relieved nonetheless to be outside where the air was cooler and the sun periodically hid behind clusters of clouds. I suspected that it would only take the leader of the field workers a few minutes to realise that I would be of no use to him and I mused over places to hide in the Glade for the rest of the afternoon after the Keeper inevitably shooed me away once I showed him my complete lack of a green thumb.

I lingered around the picnic benches a few seconds longer, stretching my sore arms behind my back and over my head, before I made my way across the Glade toward the crops where I could spot a few people bent over long rows of dark dirt. One of the men rose to his feet when he saw me approach and pulled off the gardening gloves he wore. He wiped his hands off on his even dirtier pants and held one out to me.

"Name's Zart," he said as I accepted his hand and briefly shook it. "Tanya, right?"

I nodded and scanned around us. For the most part around the Glade people pretended not to be curious about me. I didn't know if this was because Jerry told them to leave me alone or if they genuinely didn't care that I was there, but in the fields now it was no different. No one had paused there work with the exception of one blond who nodded at me in greeting when he noticed that I'd spotted him.

"I guess they finally got sick of you in the kitchens," Zart teased. Like Frypan, he seemed to have a nice sense of humour, something which was hard to come by in these times. Winston had been more serious, although I supposed I would be serious too if I worked day in and day out in a slaughterhouse. I smiled wryly back at the tanned brunet.

"Frypan didn't want to let me leave, actually," I said. "But Jerry told him that I had to show you how much I suck at gardening before we make it official."

Zart grimaced at this news and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"I'll put you with this shank for now, then." He walked toward Newt and patted him on the shoulder. "Can't get up to too much trouble weeding."

I smiled uncertainly at Newt who I hadn't really spoken to since the day I'd gotten out of the slammer. He paused his work and rose to his feet, studying me with a blank expression. Zart glanced between the two of us.

"Then again, maybe I should put you with Martha," Zart mused. "You might be more comfortable with another girl."

"It's up to the greenie," Newt said. I shrugged my shoulders and accepted the gloves Zart offered me.

"Weeding's fine."

Zart nodded at this. "Good, that."

He knelt down to retrieve a sack brimming with potatoes and slung it over his back with enviable ease. When he was a few feet away, headed in the direction I'd just come from toward the kitchen, Newt gestured toward the ground and got onto his knees once more.

"It's simple, really," he said as he pulled back on his gloves. He wrapped his fingers around a long, green stem and gently pried it from the earth. "These are weeds."

He gestured toward another green stem that had small, white buds.

"Those aren't weeds." I nodded to show that I understood this. "Try to get the weed from the root so it doesn't just grow back, and try not to pull up all of our ingrown potatoes or else we'll be starving before the month is out."

I frowned slightly at the pertness of his tone, but I assumed he was just tired from having worked all afternoon and having to babysit the newcomer couldn't have been high on the list of things he'd rather be doing. I wondered briefly as I began to tug at some of the stems that I hoped to be weeds, where the friendliness I'd seen in him had disappeared. Maybe the allure I'd had when I first arrived had finally worn off and he'd realised that I was just a teenage girl like the rest of them - although few - in the Glade.

I felt tense, sat across from Newt, not uttering a single word. The minutes rolled by and I struggled to think of something to say that would encourage him out of the shell he'd retreated into without outright blurting out, what did I do? I knew that it had to have been me that was encouraging the surly behaviour from the boy because he seemed perfectly amicable to anyone else nearby who engaged with him as we worked on the potato patch.

I watched quietly as he traded barbs with the elder boy on his left side, trying my hardest to remember if I'd done something recently that could have put me on his bad side. I came up blank and decided, biting my lip and tugging at weeds with far more force than I needed to, that he'd just gotten bored of me and there was nothing I could do to remedy that. It was a shame, though. It would have been nice to have a friend here.

It would just be the afternoon, I told myself. A few hours feeling out of place here, and then I'd be back to the kitchens where I'd be able to hide from everyone but Frypan and the other workers who didn't appear to put off by my presence. My stomach grumbled quietly as I thought of the stew I'd helped make earlier in the day that would be waiting for me after the sun went down and the doors closed.

The daily door closure was a spectacle that had startled me so much that I'd almost had a heart attack the first time that I'd witnessed it. It had looked like the walls themselves were moving, but when Alby had let me go a bit closer on our walk back to get dinner, I realised that there were doors that were just hidden away in the walls until they were activated. It made me wonder, as I had often since I first came here, who had made this place, and why, but I couldn't be more than thankful that it existed.

The Cranks could still be heard at night, roaming outside the walls, but I was never scared, not like I had been on the road here. I knew that there was no way that they could get inside. There could be a whole hoard of them and they wouldn't be able to get in – not until the doors opened at least. I wasn't sure how the doors worked, exactly.

I'd tried asking Alby about it when he escorted me to the slaughterhouse, but he'd talked his away around the question and managed to avoid giving me an answer before he left me with Winston. I supposed there had to be some kind of switch that Jerry used to control them. All I knew was, every morning they opened when the sun rose and every evening they closed when it set, like clockwork.

The Cranks that did stick around until the doors opened were quickly disposed of by the Runners as they made their way out of the Glade for the day to patrol and gather supplies. I watched them sometimes, from my window, before I got ready for the day. There were twelve of them in all, a small number considering the amount of people living in the Glade, but I knew Jerry was selective that only the most skilled were chosen to protect the rest.

Although I'd been a little jealous of the Runners at first and their ability to leave the Glade as I'd grown a little stir crazy after the first few days, I knew that they were putting themselves in danger every time that they stepped out of the Glade and I didn't want to be in their shoes at all, freedom to leave or not.

A loud curse pulled me away from my thoughts and when I drew my eyes away from the weed between my fingers, I saw that the boy that Newt had been talking to was now bleeding profusely from his palm. I pulled off my gloves and immediately stepped over the buds toward him, ignoring Newt's incredulous glare.

"What happened?" I asked as I knelt before the boy. He hissed and offered me his hand without hesitation.

"I wasn't paying attention and my knife slipped." He grimaced as I inspected the wound. It was a simple slice. He wouldn't need any stitches but he probably wouldn't be able to use the hand for a while until it healed. I grabbed the bottle of water that had sat between the two boys and squeezed the liquid onto his palm to clean the wound as best as I could.

"Keep your hand open like that," I said as I tugged at the hem of my t-shirt.

"What are you doing?" Newt exclaimed as I slipped the shirt over my head. I understood his concern, but I'd been wearing a tank top underneath so I rolled my eyes and cast an annoyed glance in his direction. What was he doing to help his friend right now? I tore a piece of fabric from the bottom of the shirt and began to wrap it tightly around the boy's hand. I made sure that it was secure before sitting back onto my heels.

"That should do you until you visit the medjacks," I said. "They'll be able to bandage it properly."

There was a bit of commotion behind me and I turned around to find one of the other field workers with one of the medjacks I'd been introduced to earlier.

"What happened?" he asked as he joined me beside the boy. The story was repeated as Clint examined my work. He turned to me afterward with a quirked brow. "Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"I didn't really think while I was doing it." I dropped my gaze to avoid his. "I mean, I picked up a bit where I came from, and I learnt quickly when I injured myself after I was on my own."

Clint dusted off his knees as he climbed back onto his feet and gestured for the boy to do the same.

"Would you like to be a medjack?" I was caught off guard by the question and so it took me a few seconds to respond. I couldn't see a reason not to learn more about medicine, it would be helpful to know things if I ever had to leave the Glade, and so I told Clint yes. He nodded, as if expecting my answer. "I'll speak to Jerry, then. If there aren't any problems, I'll see you tomorrow morning." He gestured toward my hands. "You should go get cleaned up before dinner. I don't think Zart will mind."

I grabbed my ruined shirt and made my way back toward my room. I was confused by what I'd just done. It had been instinctual to help the boy, but I couldn't say how I'd known exactly what to do. I hadn't lied – I'd been around when my father helped people who got injured around the community, and I'd fixed my minor scrapes and bruises on the road, but that didn't explain why I hadn't frozen in surprise at the injured boy like everyone else around us had.

I glanced over my shoulder toward the fields where people had slowly began to return to their work and found Newt staring back at me with a question on his face, the same thing I was asking myself:

Who was I?


End file.
